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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826875">Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylarias/pseuds/xylarias'>xylarias</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mentioned Lydia Martin, Mentioned Malia Tate, Mentioned Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Nightmares</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:41:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826875</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylarias/pseuds/xylarias</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can't see. He can't see anything. It's completely dark. Pitch black. "Hello?" he calls out, taking a step forward. "Is there anybody in here?" His voice echoes in the room.</p><p>"Stiles," someone groans. Derek. "Help me."</p><p>Stiles swallows. "Derek? Where are you?" Stiles doesn't get a response. Not from him, anyway.</p><p>"This is all your fault." Scott. His voice is thick.</p><p>"Scott? Buddy? Where– What's going on?" Stiles takes another step.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>tw // nightmares, mention of (slight) blood, panic attack</p><p>Stiles has a nightmare &amp; a panic attack. Derek comforts him and tries to calm him down.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles can't see. He can't see anything. It's completely dark. Pitch black. "Hello?" he calls out, taking a step forward. "Is there anybody in here?" His voice echoes in the room.</p><p>"Stiles," someone groans. Derek. "Help me."</p><p>Stiles swallows. "Derek? Where are you?" Stiles doesn't get a response. Not from him, anyway.</p><p>"This is all your fault." Scott. His voice is thick.</p><p>"Scott? Buddy? Where– What's going on?" Stiles takes another step.</p><p>"You failed us, Stiles." It's Lydia. She's speaking softly, quietly. But she sounds angry, somehow. "All of us."</p><p>"Lydia? Where are you? What's happening?" Stiles asks, trying to keep his breathing steady.</p><p>"We trusted you, Stiles." The voice is Malia's. She sounds pained, weak.</p><p>"You have to help us." Scott. Again.</p><p>"How? How do I help you?"</p><p>"You have to save us, Stiles," Lydia says, "you're the one who got us into this."</p><p>Stiles frowns, gulping. "Into– Into what?" He can't locate the voices. Too far, maybe. Too quiet.</p><p>"Come closer," Malia suggests, coughing, "and you can help us."</p><p>Stiles takes a few careful steps forward, wary of any and all sound. "Where are you?" he asks again.</p><p>"We're right here," Derek whispers hoarsely, and Stiles feels a hand gripping his arm. It's sticky, Stiles notices. It feels like blood. "Can't you see us?"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Stiles bolts up, gasping for breath. He's in a cold sweat, his hair glued to his temples. He can't see. He can't see. He still can't see.</p><p>He can't see.</p><p>His breathing is ragged, and his heart is hammering against his chest. He's not in control. He feels dizzy and weak, as if he'd gotten up too fast or hadn't drunk water in a while.</p><p>"Stiles?" a voice says from beside him, startling him. Derek. He's here.</p><p>Stiles turns his head to the direction of his voice. He can't see him.</p><p>"Stiles, what is it?" He sounds concerned, but all Stiles can remember is the hoarse, betrayed tone of his voice a minute ago.</p><p>Stiles shakes his head. "Derek, I can't see you," he says, trembling. "I can't see you." He's struggling to breathe, and he's drawing short breaths.</p><p>"Hey," Derek says softly, "I'm here. Right here."</p><p>
  <em>We're right here. Can't you see us?</em>
</p><p>Stiles stifles a sob. "Derek," he manages to say, "the light."</p><p>Derek doesn't move. "The light?" he asks, confused.</p><p>"The light," Stiles repeats, taking a gasping breath, "turn it on." He hears Derek shifting on the bed, looking for the light switch.</p><p>Derek does as asked, flicking the switch of the table lamp with a quick movement. There's light. Stiles can see. He can see. He can see again.</p><p>He can see.</p><p>"Stiles." Derek is frowning at him. "What happened?"</p><p>Stiles inhales. "Just a bad dream. Nightmare." He swallows, allowing his shoulders to relax. "Nothing to worry about."</p><p>"I can tell when you're lying, you know," Derek says, sighing. He cups Stiles' cheeks, staring into his eyes. "Hey," he says. Stiles is still shaking, eyes wide. "Hey, look at me."</p><p>Stiles does, inhaling and exhaling in an unsteady rhythm as he tries to ground himself.</p><p>"I'm here. It's okay. It was just a nightmare," Derek assures him. Stiles puts his own hands on Derek's. "Now tell me," Derek says quietly, "what was it about?"</p><p>Stiles shakes his head. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."</p><p>Derek furrows his eyebrows. "Stiles."</p><p>"No, really, I'm fine. It's not important."</p><p>"<em>Stiles</em>. Tell me," Derek insists, stroking Stiles' cheek.</p><p>Stiles sighs. "It's, uh– I was in this– this room." Derek nods, encouraging Stiles to go on. "I couldn't see anything. It was dark."</p><p>Stiles takes a deep breath, ignoring the pressure he feels on his chest. "There were– There were voices. Yours, Scott's, Lydia's, Malia's."</p><p>Derek nods again, worried. Stiles licks his lips, letting his hands fall down. He looks at them, cracking his joints and knuckles in order to distract himself.</p><p>To have something to do with his hands. They feel numb.</p><p>"You were hurt, I think. You kept saying that it was my fault that you– that you got into something and that I could save you," Stiles continues.</p><p>"Did something else happen? After that?" Derek asks, taking Stiles' hands into his own.</p><p>"Yeah," Stiles admits, exhaling shakily. "I approached you. You, uh... you gripped my arm, and I think your hand was covered in blood."</p><p>Derek squeezes Stiles' hand lightly.</p><p>"That's not all, though," Stiles says. "After that, I... I asked where you were, and... and you said '<em>We're right here. Can't you see us?</em>'"</p><p>Derek's eyes widen, concern spreading across his face. "So the whole time..."</p><p>Stiles nods stiffly. "It wasn't dark. I was blind."</p><p>"That's– <em>Stiles</em>. Jesus," Derek says.</p><p>"Yeah," Stiles whispers, pursing his lips. He swallows.</p><p>Derek hugs him.</p><p>"It's okay," he says. "You're okay. You're not blind."</p><p>Stiles holds onto him tightly, his arms wrapped around Derek. He buries his face into Derek's shoulder. "I know," he croaks.</p><p>Derek runs his hand up and down Stiles' back soothingly, his other hand pressed against the back of Stiles' head.</p><p>Derek's presence calms him down. His arms embrace him with warmth, and Stiles can feel his own fingers again.</p><p>Stiles holds onto Derek, breathing in, then out, evenly. He takes in Derek's scent, calming down. "Thank you," he says, resting his chin on Derek's shoulder in order to be heard better.</p><p>Stiles can't see Derek's face, but he can hear the smile in his voice. "Anything."</p><p>Stiles smiles, too. "Have I mentioned that I love you?"</p><p>"Only a hundred times a day," Derek responds.</p><p>They both chuckle. Stiles can't go on one day without telling Derek that he loves him. Really, truly, genuinely loves him.</p><p>Especially considering how shitty Derek's past relationships have been, Stiles wants to make Derek feel loved. Cherished. Appreciated.</p><p>"Only a hundred?" Stiles asks. "Damn. That's not enough," he says with a small laugh.</p><p>Derek hugs Stiles even tighter, not wanting to let go. "I love you too, Stiles," he whispers. "So, so much."</p><p>Stiles smiles. "C'mon, let's go back to sleep," he says. He doesn't want to let go either, but he does need sleep.</p><p>Plus, spooning works for him too.</p><p>Derek slowly lets go of Stiles. He looks tired, Stiles notices. "I love you," Stiles says once again.</p><p>"Mmm," Derek hums, pulling Stiles into a tired kiss. Stiles smiles against Derek's lips, resting his arms on Derek's shoulders.</p><p>Derek goes in for another, smiling sheepishly when Stiles playfully pushes his face away. "Sleep," Stiles reminds him. "You might be a werewolf, but you need it too, you know," he says, quirking an eyebrow at Derek.</p><p>Derek groans, but lies back down. Stiles huddles close to him, his back pressed against Derek's chest.</p><p>Derek slides an arm under Stiles', pulling him closer. Stiles reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers.</p><p>Derek plants a kiss against the nape of Stiles' neck, exhaling. It ruffles Stiles' hair, tickles his skin. "Do you want me to leave the light on?" Derek mumbles.</p><p>Stiles considers this for a moment. "... Yeah." Stiles can feel Derek nodding.</p><p>"I love you too," Derek says suddenly.</p><p>"You said that already," Stiles says, slightly confused, but mostly amused.</p><p>"I know," Derek replies, "but you said 'I love you' twice. Can't let you win," Derek says teasingly.</p><p>"Uh-huh," Stiles says, teasing back. "Now come on, Sourwolf, try to get some sleep."</p><p>Derek hums softly against Stiles' neck. "Good night, Stiles."</p><p>"Good night," Stiles answers, letting himself be surrounded by Derek's warmth. "I love you," he whispers, hoping that Derek won't hear him.</p><p>But he does. He always does.</p><p>"I heard that," Derek whispers back. "And <em>I</em> love <em>you</em>."</p><p>"You and your stupid werewolf hearing," Stiles mutters, scoffing.</p><p>"You love it," Derek says. Stiles rolls his eyes, even though he knows Derek can't see his face.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah," he says with a chuckle. "Let's get some sleep."</p><p>Derek nods, exhaling slowly. "Good night," he says. "Sleep well, Stiles."</p><p>Stiles smiles, breathing deeply. "You too, Der."</p><p>And for once, Stiles doesn't have a nightmare.<br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so obviously this fic was inspired by the fact that Stiles' greatest fear is becoming blind-- that's angst material right there</p></blockquote></div></div>
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